


These Five Years

by sneakronicity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/pseuds/sneakronicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt on the Be Compromised promptathon:</p><p>"Natasha has spent five years trying every trick in the book except telling Clint point blank that she loves him, but when he tells someone she's like his sister, that's the last straw."</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a lot with this one for some reason, and almost scrapped the whole thing, but hopefully some of you enjoy it anyhow. Thanks to the lovely shenshen77 for the encouragement and reassurance! Prompt by scribble_myname

For eight years they had been partners.For eight years they worked together and apart; they grew to trust each other, learned each other’s tells, and eventually became a fully functioning team.Of course they still did solo missions when a job required one of their particular skills and not the other’s, but nobody could deny that as a team they were the best.They had an unspoken language that no other pair could match, yet that didn’t mean there were no secrets between them.

Of those eight years, Natasha had been in love with Clint for the last five.

It had happened suddenly, and in the most cliché way possible, and that was what annoyed Natasha the most about the whole thing.  Her life was as abnormal as they came, something like this wasn’t supposed to be so ‘Hollywood’, but as Clint had lain in her arms, bleeding out from a bullet wound, she had had to face the prospect of losing him, of having to go back to living a life without him in it.  The thought of it made her feel sick, made her rage and forbid him to leave her, and in the end she had managed to keep him alive until the medical crew had arrived.  They had saved him, and the relief she had felt was indescribable.  Life without him sounded dark, cold, and miserable.  She had grown to depend on his very presence, on his smile and how he made her feel accepted and normal and... and how he made her _feel_ , period.  She didn’t have a lot of experience with love, but she knew that that was what she felt for him.

While he recovered she thought about it a lot and realised it really hadn’t been so sudden after all.  On her first anniversary of being with S.H.I.E.L.D. he had shown up at her door to inform her that they both had the day off and that he was taking her out.  They had spent the whole day just playing tourist in New York City.  He took her to the biggest tourist traps and museums, they walked through Central Park, and in Times Square he made sure they took a turn on the ferris wheel at Toys ‘R’ Us.  Natasha had complained but Clint had ignored every one.  By the time they returned to HQ she couldn’t keep the exhausted smile off of her face, and when he promised they would do it all again next year she hadn’t argued, had just given him that enigmatic smile of hers instead and bid him good night.

The next year she had found herself excited for the day.  They had gone to the Bronx Zoo, and anywhere else they could squeeze in before the day ended.  The third year Clint’s mission ran longer than expected and he didn’t make it back in time.  The disappointment Natasha had felt had been nearly overwhelming, and entirely confusing to her.  She vowed to not let herself look forward to anything like that again, and didn’t dwell on the matter.

That was only one incident of many that had hinted at her change of feelings toward him even before she had realised it was love.  Sometimes it was the big things, like her anniversary, but sometimes it was the little ones, like how she caught herself thinking about him without prompting.  He was often her first thought in the mornings, and the first person to come to mind when she heard other agents talking about love or attraction in the locker rooms.  

She should have seen it all along, should have recognized it when she caught herself studying his eyelashes and how they lay upon his cheeks when he was sleeping, or his dextrous fingers as he spun a pen between them while pretending to write his report.  She should have known when she had felt jealous when he flirted with other women, or when her stomach fluttered the first time he had tried to teach her how to properly hold a bow.

Denial was a powerful thing, but in the face of losing him she hadn’t been able to deny it any longer, though she had determined not to act on it unless he gave some sort of sign that he might be feeling the same way.

He never did.

The last five years had been the best of her life, but also complete torture.  She had watched him date other women, even have a very serious relationship that he thought would last forever.  It tore her heart out but she had been nothing but supportive the whole time, and had been the one to pick up the pieces when the relationship had eventually fallen apart.  Then he had been vulnerable, so of course she couldn’t make a move even if she wanted to.

There was always some excuse.

There had been five years of excuses.

Now they were closer than ever, best friends as well as partners, and some days she thought it wouldn’t take much to cross that line, to become something even more.  That was why it hit her particularly hard when she was walking the halls at S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q. and overheard a particular bit of dialogue.

“So, you and Romanoff... you ever... you know,” a male voice said, slightly familiar.  A rookie, name of Wart or something.

“What?!” Clint’s incredulous voice replied.  “Nah, man.  She’s like a sister to me.”

Natasha felt her stomach drop and her blood run cold.  A sister.  A _sister_?  All these years, all the hints and the hopes, and he thought of her as a _sister_?  She felt ill, and hurt and so damn angry.  How had she been so stupid?  

“A sister?  I would be having some real illegal thoughts if I...” the rookie started to reply when he rounded the corner and came face to face with Natasha.  She had been so distracted that she hadn’t realised that they were on the move and approaching her.  For the briefest moment when she met Clint’s surprised gaze her expression was completely naked, her eyes showing the tumult of feelings within her.  Then she shut it down like a switch, her eyes narrowing into a glare.  She said nothing, just pushed past the two men and stormed down the hall, ignoring Clint as he yelled after her.

“Natasha!  Natasha, wait!” he called, but she kept walking, pushing open the nearest door and striding into a dark and deserted seminar room.  “Jesus, Nat, would you stop?”

Only when she heard the door click shut behind him did she finally turn to face him.  The worry on his face was staggering, but the pain in her heart was worse.

“What’s wrong” he asked, his voice suddenly quiet and concerned.

“Nothing.  I’m fine,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t accept that but unsure what else to say.

“Don’t lie to me, Nat.  That look you gave me out there was not from someone who is _fine_.  What happened?”

Scoffing, she turned away just as he was reaching for her, abruptly shrugging off his touch.  How could she tell him?  Where was she even supposed to start?  “It’s nothing, just drop it.”

Clint knew her well enough to know when to stop prodding her, and he knew this wasn’t something that they could just let go, especially not after she had flinched from him like that.  

“Was it something I did?  If this was about what he was saying out there...” Clint continued in that soft voice but trailed off when Natasha let out a bitter laugh.  “I told him he didn’t stand a chance with you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need you policing who I date,” she shot back, not grateful in the very least.  

He looked completely taken aback.  “You _want_ to date that guy?”

“Does it matter?” Natasha returned.  “Why do you even care anyway?”  Clearly he wasn’t jealous, and if he just wanted to be her protector then he could shove it.  She didn’t want his protection, didn’t need it.  

“I meant what I said.  You’re like family-”

“Don’t,” she cut in harshly, her eyes flashing with anger.  “I don’t want to hear it.”

Now it was Clint’s turn to look hurt.  Family was a touchy subject for Clint considering how horrible his had been, and Natasha knew that.  She knew how his father had abused him, his mother abandoned him, and his brother betrayed him.  She knew how hard it was for him to let people in, and for him to adopt her into his life like that only to have her throw it back in his face hurt more than he could have imagined.  For a second she felt regret, but before she could try to make up for it she saw his expression change.  Anger was always easier and she steeled herself for it and prepared to fire back.

“What is your problem?” he burst out, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.  “I’m not allowed to defend you against some dick, I’m not allowed to tell people how important you are to me, I’m-”

“But you didn’t,” she jumped in.  “You didn’t tell him that.  You told him I was like a sister.”

“So?” he exclaimed in confusion and frustration.  “What the fuck is wrong with that?  You know how shit my real family was.  You should feel fucking honoured that I care that much about you that I’d want you-”

This time when she cut him off it wasn’t with words.  Grabbing the front of his shirt, she pulled him to her and crushed her lips to his in a bruising kiss.  It was fueled by anger, hurt and desire, and she poured everything into it; everything she felt but couldn’t say; everything she had kept hidden for the past five years. It felt like an eternity before Clint finally stopped floundering and returned the kiss.

Time seemed to stop, and if she’d had any lingering doubts that she was completely and madly in love with Clint Barton they would have been obliterated by the feeling of his mouth hot on hers, his tongue moving against hers.  One of his hands tangled in her hair, his other moved around her back to hold her against him, and it was everything she had dreamed it would be.  He tasted of coffee, smelled faintly like sweat and aftershave, and he felt so warm and solid against her she couldn’t help the quiet sound that escaped her lips.

Eventually they parted, both gasping for air, and when Clint opened his eyes to look at her she had only a second to relish in that look of desire before he took a step back and confusion took over.  “Nat... what was...”

He couldn’t seem to form the question, and that look of shock and incomprehension was too much. Just like that she shut down.  

“I don’t want to be your sister,” she said in a hard, cold voice before turning on her heal and striding from the room leaving a flabbergasted Clint in her wake.

~~~

For four days they avoided each other, only tolerating being in a room together when work demanded it and there were other people present, and even then they barely looked at each other, at least not openly.  Stolen glances to try to read moods, searching gazes while the other was distracted.  It was painful and awkward and not a way they had ever expected to act around each other.  

At the end of the fourth day Natasha was just unlocking her room when she heard Clint’s voice softly saying her name.  A shiver ran down her spine.  “Following me, Barton?” she asked with forced levity as she pushed the door open and stepped inside before turning to look at him.  He looked like shit, and his expression was strangely unreadable.

“More like waiting for you,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.  “Can I come in?”

After a moment’s hesitation Natasha nodded almost imperceptibly and stepped further into the room so Clint could enter and close the door.  For a long, awkward moment afterward they stood staring at each other in silence.  Then he spoke.

“Why did you kiss me?”

It was precisely the sort of question she had been trying to avoid and hoping that he wouldn’t need to ask.  Failure on both accounts.  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, turning away and busying herself with hanging up her coat.  “Let’s just forget it ever happened and go back to how things were, okay?”

“I don’t think I can do that,” he replied quietly.  “I... I’m not sure I want to.”

The words made her freeze and once again silence reigned before she slowly turned around, her eyes confused and searching.  It took everything she had to quash down the hope that was threatening to rise.  

“You were off limits,” he began to explain.  “I brought you in and you felt like you owed me and I didn’t want things to get confusing or weird so I just... I wrote you off.  You were a partner, a friend, one of the guys... a sister...” he winced when he said that last one and gave her an apologetic look that practically begged her not to hit him.  “It was just easier that way, I just never let myself see anything else, but the other day...”  Taking a deep breath he tried to keep hold of the nerve to keep going.  “That was some kiss.”  

His awkward chuckle and sheepish look earned the slightest hint of a smile from Natasha but she dared not interrupt him.  Her heart was hammering and she was almost afraid to let him keep going, afraid to finally hear the words she had longed for for years.  

“I guess it made me realise that I’ve been lying to myself.  I wasn’t protecting you from anyone who might be interested, I was protecting me.”  More silence, and when Natasha didn’t even try to break it Clint shifted his weight nervously.  He didn’t do silence well in these sorts of situations and tended to keep talking just to fill it.  “I really liked kissing you.”  God, he sound like a teenager with a crush.  “I’d like to kiss you again.”

It was getting embarrassing at this point and she finally found her voice.  “Then why don’t you?” she asked, a grin curling her lips.

It was meant to be a rhetorical, but Clint was still unsure about everything and missed that completely. “I was scared you might hit me.”

Natasha gave him a look that seemed to say that she wanted to hit him now, because of that comment, but she instead rolled her eyes.  “Then why don’t you,” she tried again, inflecting as much suggestion as she could into her voice without flat out telling him to shut up and kiss her already.

Thankfully he took the hint.  “Oh, right,” he said, his face lighting up in a stupid grin before he closed the distance between them and leaned in, brushing his lips to hers tentatively.  The kiss was tender, chaste, and the exact opposite of what their first had been, but Natasha swore she could still feel a thrill run down her back the whole way to her toes.  It was soft and exploratory, slow and very thorough, and by the time he pulled back they were both wide-eyed and breathless.  

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he said after a moment.

“Because you never seemed interested?” she supplied the answer, watching him wince at the words.  

“Sorry, I was an idiot,” he said, cupping her cheek in one hand and softly rubbing his thumb over her skin. 

“Yes, you were... but I suppose I can forgive you if you keep kissing me like that.”

“That I can do,” Clint replied enthusiastically before capturing her lips once more.

Maybe in time she would tell him how long she had wanted this, how painful it had been to see him with all those other women when she was right there the whole time, loving him, but not now.She had waited five years, now he could wait a little longer.

 

 


End file.
